I Know Where This Is Going
by smileypv
Summary: What about your life is true when you know your fate?
1. Prediction

_What do you do when you already know where your life is going? _

_How do you live your life when you know how it's going to end?_

* * *

When I was nine, I was outside at the park, playing with my friends. My mom, Renee, was sitting on a bench with other moms, chatting. My friends Rosalie and Alice were both challenging each other to go higher on the swings while I stood nearby, out of the way and waiting for them to stop with the egos already. As a preternaturally clumsy person, I never got on the swings. Sure, I would tempt fate by attempting to have fun, but after getting two of my fingers lodged in the chains, falling over backward while on an upward trajectory, and, lastly, knocking over two different toddlers just trying to get started, I gave up on the whole thing and chose the safer route of standing by while others played. I felt fated to be clumsy my whole life. At nine, that was saying a lot.

Standing there, watching my friends play, was something I had done nearly daily, but today was different. Nothing else was different; everything about the day – from school to walking home to my mother gossiping nearby – was the same as ever. Except the dark-haired woman standing under the trees. She was beautiful but sad-looking, her dark hair curled around her face. Her brow was furrowed and I could see her brows pull together as she thought of something that must be troubling her. As she watched us play, I saw her move from the trees to a bench. She was on the curved part of the path that went from the main play area to the restrooms. I felt this pull toward her, this need to speak to her. I couldn't explain it; I just needed to do it.

"Hey, Alice, come with me to the restroom," I said, as she and Rosalie were starting to slow down their incessant swinging. I wondered who had won. Rosalie wrinkled her nose.

"I wouldn't go in there. It's so dirty. Public restrooms are gross."

Alice just smiled brightly. "Okay, Bella." She and I walked toward the cinderblock building which housed two restrooms and a water fountain. I waved at my mother, pointing toward the building, and Renee waved back, her eyes cutting toward us as we walked. I hoped my mother would get distracted by her conversations again so I could speak to the strange woman.

Alice went first and I quickly backtracked to stand by the dark-haired stranger. She looked at me and again I saw her brow furrow and her eyes look concerned. "I know your life."

"What?" I gasped. I was incredulous. Even at nine, I only had vague ideas about my life, but they were mostly about wanting to learn to drive so I could go to the library anytime I wanted or thinking about what career would allow me to spend all of my time with books. Thank goodness Alice was taking too long.

The woman stood quickly, grabbed my arms, and stared into my eyes. I looked over and saw my mother had turned away from me for a second so I stared back into the dark woman's eyes. "You will marry Edward and you will die in flames."

_"What?" _ I asked again, my eyes big and brown in her eyes. I hear Alice close the door to the restroom behind me and the woman instantly releases me.

"Bella?" Alice asks and I turn around to see her wide-eyed behind me. "Is everything OK?"

I turn again, to say something to the woman, but she has vanished. I look at Alice, then at my mother, who is still engrossed in her conversation, and then back to the bench where the woman has been sitting. The world seemed to have noticed nothing, only Alice, who stood waiting for my answer.

"Everything is fine, Alice. Let's go find Rosalie."


	2. Dreamer

That's when the dreams began. Dreams about flames at first. I became afraid of fire, which drove my mother crazy. Whenever my dad would answer a call that would involve fire, I would freak out, even though I was not involved, just my dad. I would check our smoke alarms religiously and even set them off a couple of times testing them. Two things happened then: first, I realized that I hadn't met or married anyone because I was a kid and, second, my mother threatened to send me to a shrink. How was I going to explain the encounter in the park to anyone?

After I calmed down, I found my school yearbook on the bookshelf in our living room and began to flip through it. There were no boys named Edward in our school, though there was a boy named Emmett in Rosalie's grade. I then flipped through Alice's yearbook when I was at her house next and, nope, no Edward.

As my tenth birthday approached in September, I began to think I was just plain crazy. How did I know that the woman on the playground wasn't just talking jibberish? How did I know she wasn't mentally ill or something? Two weeks after my birthday, our neighbor's house caught fire, the sirens of the fire trucks waking us in the night. The dreams of flames changed to our house being on fire, embers raining down on me as I found myself trapped, no way out. This continued for a couple of years; I got used to the dreams and didn't speak of them to my parents. Renee already seemed to be watching me out of the corner of her eye as it was.

When I was twelve, I started middle school, my elementary school merging with two others to create a much larger student population than I was used to. It was chaotic trying to get from one class to the other. It took me a long time to get to know any of the kids from the other schools that were now part of my daily school experience. The first two girls I met were Jessica and Angela.

We were sitting at lunch, Jessica and Angela on one side and Alice and Rosalie on the other. Rosalie was a year ahead of us, already in eighth grade. I watched Jessica stare at Rosalie with open envy as Rose flipped her blonde hair and had note after note slipped to her from boys in in the school. She ignored most of them, though she did seem to have a thing for Emmett, who was already taller than most of the school at just thirteen.

Nearby, I noticed a boy with messy hair and a slightly awkward gait. He put his hair up with his hand or ran through it with his fingers, thus causing this odd, frizzy configuration on his head. He was bone-thin and gawky, looking uncomfortable in his body. He seemed to flit around like a mosquito, never really looking any of the girls in the face and jabbering quietly with a couple of the boys at his table.

"Who is that?" I jutted my chin toward the boy; the girls all turned toward him. Alice and Rosalie shrugged, but Jessica and Angela both giggled.

"That guy?" Jessica rolled her eyes. "He's such a dork. His name is Edward."

Well, shit.


	3. Awkward

At this age, I took adults pretty seriously. Of course, I had the occasional rolling-my-eyes-at-my-parents moments when Renee would say something crazy or my father would give me a gruff admonishment about boys. But, when adults said something, it was gospel – for now. The dark woman's statements to me on the playground created my dreams and, soon after, sent me in the direction of a brooding, awkward Edward Cullen.

After my first sighting of him in the school cafeteria, I debated about what to do. Was this the Edward the dark woman had meant? Surely not. I had begun to picture someone akin to Edward Ferrars from _Sense and Sensibility_, someone handsome, perhaps not conventionally so, but smart, charmingly shy, and, above all, _not this guy_. This Edward was a mess. At twelve, that's saying a lot. His hair had been pushed up into some sort of bouffant in the front, likely by the alternating ways he ran his fingers through his hair throughout the day. He wore dark pants and dark shirts every day, always with some sort of logos on them. I finally figured out that some of the logos were symbols for certain bands so I looked up the bands online. I tried listening to the music, anything to find a starting place with this guy. He didn't exactly strike me as a talkative person. It took me a long time to muster up anything close to the right amount of courage to talk to this guy.

Finally, I saw my best opportunity would be between classes. His locker happened to be near Alice's so I started speeding through my between-class routine, gathering my books and notebooks faster, stacking everything together and in the right order before school started and then grabbing what I needed as quickly as I could. I then would scurry over to Alice's locker to chat with her for a moment before we both headed off to our next class, which we happened to have together. On this particular day, I warned her ahead of time what I was going to do.

In the lunchroom, I again had my eyes fixed on his back, watching Edward slump over a notebook, deep in conversation with another kid next time, this one with curly blonde hair. They seemed oblivious to the people around them. I nudged Alice and gestured toward the two of them.

"I'm going to talk to Edward before Algebra," I said.

"Why?" she whispered exasperated. "He's so, just, _ew._"

"What about the blonde kid next to him? I've seen you eying him before."

She smiled dreamily. "That's Jasper. He's adorbs. He plays guitar."

"So if I talk to Edward, then maybe I can get an in for you with Jasper."

Alice eyed me suspiciously. "Why do you want to talk to Edward Cullen? There isn't anything the least bit attractive about him. I mean, he barely looks anyone in the eye."

Since I can't tell anyone about the dark woman, I knew I needed to lie to avoid any of my friends becoming suspicious. Alice was right; what twelve-year-old girl would want to talk to this kid when she could eye boy-candy like Emmett, who I spied Rosalie flirting with a couple of tables over. But my life had been taken over by what I've been told about my future and I want to figure it out so I can get some peace of mind. "My mom always says to be nice to the kids who are a little odd now. They might turn out to surprise you. Become some hotshot actor or run a company one day."

Alice looks doubtful at that reasoning. We are entrenched in the age where any slight difference can be a death knell for your social life. "All right. I'll wait for you while you talk to him. Don't make me late for class, though."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Why would I do that? If you're late, I'm late too. And you know we'll catch hell for that."

Right then, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Jasper and Edward Cullen have turned toward us, Jasper smiling, Edward not. He looked me up and down and then turned away while Jasper remained smiling; I heard Alice sigh a little and I could only assume that I was in the middle of some sort of exchange between the two of them. I saw Edward nudge Jasper and the two returned to ignoring the people around them. Before we left the lunchroom, though, I saw Edward look my way one more time, his expression neutral.

* * *

_When I was nine, a dark-haired stranger told me I was going to marry Edward and die in flames. Your name is Edward. What do you think?_

_Um, nice shirt. I love that band._

_Soooo, how's it hanging, Cullen? What are you and Jasper up to?_

_Got a cigarette?_

I was twelve. Opening lines weren't my strong suit. This was not a conversation I had ever anticipated having with anyone. The closer it got to the moment, the brighter red I felt. I was shaking all over. My eyes flitted from face to face, trying to see what people's reactions to Edward Cullen were. Mostly, others just ignored him. I couldn't. It was annoying to be different.

My brain kept going, _What if you're wrong, what if you're wrong? You're only twelve. How do you KNOW?_ But I couldn't ignore anyone named Edward at this point. Just like I couldn't ignore fire any time I was near it. I couldn't forget the dark woman's words.

_I know your life_.

Finally, it was time for Algebra. I threw my books from my previous class into my locker and yanked the textbook and notebook I needed from the pile in my locker. I saw Alice standing by her locker, staring at me, motioning toward Edward, who was perched below her, taking things out of his own locker. She gracefully moved around him, toward the staircase that would take us to Algebra, and I walked as slowly as I could manage, which probably looked more like a clumsy ambling; I saw Alice's expression as I made my way toward him, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling more than once. I stopped in front of his locker door for a few seconds before I could make my voice work.

"Hi." It came out as nearly a whisper. He didn't look up so I tried again, working to inject some projection into my voice. "Hi, uh, Edward."

He looked up this time, regarding me neutrally. He pushed his hand into his hair, the front section jutting up in multiple directions. His eyes looked at me suspiciously, but his face remained impassive, like any second he would see right through me.

He answered with his own 'hi' and then did nothing to continue the conversation. He stood waiting for me to say something next. I felt my eyes grow wide and I fumbled for something else to say.

"I like your shirt. Those guys are my new favorite band." I said lamely, gesturing at the button-down shirt he wore with the logo of a prog rock band on its back.

"Thanks. I need to go to class now." His textbook slid from his grip, exposing the binder underneath. I noticed a drawing tucked into the clear-sleeve front of the binder, but he yanked it out of my sight before I could tell what the drawing was. We both reached for the book at the same time, nearly knocking heads in the process. He got to the book first and looked at me like he was going to say something. Instead, I heard him huff through his nose and watched him walk quickly away. I stood slack-jawed and feeling dumb.

"Super, Swan. Just super." I mumbled to myself as I joined Alice, both of us taking the stairs two at a time so we could avoid being late. We slid into our seats just as the bell rang, signaling the start of class.

I tried to listen to today's lesson, but I replayed the encounter with Edward instead. I was trying to figure out where I went wrong, what I should have said to him that would have gotten him talking more. I didn't know what I could have done differently, but I figured it had to be my fault since he didn't seem terribly interested in talking to me in the first place.

_Sigh._

Figuring all of this out was going to be harder than I thought it would be.


	4. Sketches

Over the next few weeks, I made a few half-hearted attempts to talk to Edward Cullen. He always looked at me with the same expression – patient, neutral, never taking his eyes off of me, but never giving me much in return. It was like he was observing me rather than me observing him. I caught him watching me off and on, usually when we were changing classes or when we were sitting at lunch. Jasper and Alice started to 'date' – if that was what you could call it when you're this age – so we found ourselves shifted down a few seats to accommodate Jasper and his group, which included Edward. Edward always sat on the end and he almost always talked only to Jasper, though he would talk to Alice occasionally. He never spoke to me and certainly not to the rest of the table – Angela, Jessica, Rosalie, and, now, Emmett.

So while I was watching him, he was watching me, and where was this going? Absolutely nowhere. He wouldn't speak to me. It was really frustrating.

One day, right toward the end of fall semester, Alice bounced up to me in her usual way, but this time she was squealing louder with each bounce. I had to laugh. "What is it, Alice?"

"OMG, Bella, OMG! I just saw something that I never expected to see. You know how Edward has all of these drawings on his binder?"

"Yeah, I've never seen them, though. I've seen him sketching before, usually during study hall, but he doesn't seem willing to share them with anyone."

"Well, Jasper has one in his locker. It's a sketch of Jasper holding his guitar and looks amazing, by the way. I asked him about Edward's sketches and he said that he's seen tons."

"So?"

"He also told me that Edward has at least two sketches of you!"

_Excuse me? The soundless enigma that is Edward Cullen has sketches of me. Creepy._

"Isn't that a little creepy? I mean, he never talks to me. I have tried talking to him on more than one occasion and nothing. He barely speaks to anyone except you and Jasper."

Alice waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, please, Bella. It's just an act. He's shy, that's all. He comes off as this aloof guy, but really he's just painfully shy."

"So shy that he can't speak to me when I speak to him?"

Alice shrugged. "Anyway. He has sketches of you! Isn't that amazing? I think he likes you."

"Great. The one guy in this school who likes me is a selective mute on par with that guy from _The Big Bang Theory_."

Alice put her hand on my shoulder and tried to look sympathetic. "Hey, you're the one who said that we should be nice to the geeky ones because they might turn out to be fabulously wealthy someday."

I rolled my eyes. "Let's go to class, Alice."

As we walked to our next class, I couldn't help being a little excited about the sketches. That's something, right? Of course, I can't let him know that I know because he would be mortified. Really, this information gets me nowhere. If only I could get a good look at them…

* * *

The morning of our last day before Winter Break, I saw Edward outside of school, joking around with Jasper and a couple of other guys, including, surprisingly, Emmett. I don't think I had ever seen him smile before, but he was definitely smiling today. In fact, he was having so much fun that he left his books on the steps going up to the school's entrance. I saw this and grabbed them as soon as he was out of sight. I knew this was going to make me late to my first class, but I didn't care. I had a shot to see what he had drawn of me. I realized right as I ducked inside a restroom that his binder might not have the drawings, that, if they did exist, he might have secreted them away somewhere. How did I know that Alice actually saw me in those sketches and not some other girl? My friend was known to exaggerate at times.

The drawing on the front of the binder was a guitar; I had no idea what kind it was other than it was electric. Inside, he had sketches for each of his subject dividers. The subjects of the drawings varied, but each was exquisitely detailed when needed or minimalist when it suited him. When I flipped to the last class, I gasped audibly and I peeked around the corner to see if anyone had heard me.

Alice and I had algebra as our last class of the day. Every time I tried to talk to Edward, it had been right at that time. Other than that, we moved in different circles; the seventh grade class was large enough that we all couldn't be in the same classes at the same time. My locker was down the hall from Alice's, far away enough that I had to make an effort to talk to her or Edward before that class. Edward's behavior each time made me think my advances were unwanted, that he couldn't wait to get away from me.

I was wrong. The sketch that made up the divider for his final class was one of me. At first, I had denied Alice's assumption that the sketches he had done were of me at all. Perhaps it was some other dark-haired girl. I mean, if you looked around, it wasn't like I stood out at all. But this was most definitely me. I could tell by the mouth, the slight unevenness around the upper lip, the fullness of the bottom lip. In the sketch, my gaze was off to the side, like I was looking at someone. I was so surprised that I didn't remember walking into the front office and turning in the binder to the woman behind the desk.

When school ended that day, I tried to find Edward. I wanted to try talking to him one more time before the holidays. I saw him standing at the other end of the hallway, right by his locker and I rushed to gather my things, stuffing my backpack without regard for whether or not I had the right items. I knew how much time I had before I needed to catch the bus. I sprinted down the hall, trying to catch up with him before he left, but he was gone. He had somehow disappeared while I was throwing things in my bag. I ran toward the bus line, knowing that I would catch hell from my father if I missed it. As I ran, I looked for Edward, ducking in and out of crowds of kids, hoping to spy the bronze hair. I saw nothing, though, and spent my winter break contemplating the meaning behind the sketch.

* * *

When we returned from winter break three weeks later, Edward Cullen was not among the swarm of faces crowded in the hallway as we moved toward our early classes. Days went by and no Edward. I wondered aloud about his absence to Jasper one day at lunch. Jasper's face scrunched up in a funny way and he hesitated.

"Edward's had a family emergency. They relocated because of it. I don't know the details. I just know he probably won't be back any time soon."

_"You will marry Edward and you will die in flames."_

Somehow knowing Edward Cullen was no longer a presence in my life felt liberating.


	5. Liberated

_Liberated – To set free, as from oppression, confinement, or foreign control. _

If it's possible for a twelve-year-old to feel liberated, considering that I paid no bills, held no job, and had no other responsibilities outside of chores at home and school, then I was the living embodiment. With Alice's prodding, I began to date. While she and Jasper, who had begun to date over winter break, smashed lips every day between classes, by my locker, _incessantly, _I started to observe the other boys in our school, focused on finding the boy that would move me past Edward Cullen.

I asked Mike Newton out for the Sadie Hawkins dance, but he disappeared mid-dance. When I left at ten, I saw him tongue-kissing Jessica Stanley in the shadows outside the school gym. Ew.

Next it was Tyler Crowley. He asked me to a movie and we went with Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, Emmett, and a couple of others to see the latest superhero movie. Then he tried to kiss me and it was just wrong. I tried one more time, going bowling with him and the same group, but, again, when he tried to kiss me, it was just **nooooooo**. I was starting to worry that Edward Cullen had left me with bad dating mojo. Damn guitar-playing, girl-drawing, moody bastard.

In the spring, Rosalie dragged me to a lacrosse game. Emmett was playing on the JV squad, though he was taller than some of the varsity guys from the high school. She had talked me into wearing school colors at least, since I apparently didn't own a school shirt, which she admonished me. "Bella, how can you not have ANY school spirit? It's just antithetical to the whole school experience." So, here I was, in my navy blue flannel and jeans with a golden yellow scarf from Rosalie's closet, sitting on the bleachers with zero interest in the proceedings and a girlfriend who was enthusiastically yelling for her boyfriend and chattering to me about trying out for JV cheerleader in a month.

I bolted for the concession stand whenever I could, using that or the restroom as an excuse to get away from the forced congeniality that sports necessitated. Every time I went that direction, I noticed a tall, dark-skinned boy watching me from the other school's bleachers. He stood closer to where I would be each time I came that way. His eyes would cut toward me and I tried to decipher what he was going to do, but, _boys_. He never actually approached me until I finally went up to him, hands on my hips, and said, "Can I help you?"

Much to my chagrin, he burst out laughing and I started to walk away in mortification. "No, wait," he said, apologetic. "I'm sorry. You just looked so cute standing there, I couldn't help it."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks, I guess."

He held out his hand. "Jacob Black."

I shook it. "Bella Swan."

"Well, then, Bella Swan, would you like to come and sit with me while we pretend to watch the game?"

I shook my head no and he frowned. "Off to sit with your boyfriend?"

I couldn't help the little smile that played on my face upon seeing his disappointment. "No, I'm here with my friend. Her boyfriend is that really tall kid on our team."

"That guy?" Jacob said, pointing in Emmett's direction. "Whew. He's like a head taller than everyone else."

"You're one to talk," I said, gesturing from his head down to his feet.

"Nah. There are guys taller than me at school. I'll probably stay this height for the rest of my life."

I blinked at him, unsure of what to say next. He was tall and I was not. Next? "Well, I need to get back to Rosalie. It was nice talking to you."

"Bella, wait," I felt Jacob's hand on my arm as I turned away from him. "Let me see your phone."

I looked at him, puzzled for a moment and then handed him my cell phone. He fumbled with it for a moment and then slid it back into my hand. "There. You have my cell number. Text me."

I nodded at him, my eyebrows knit together in uncertainty. "Okay. Thanks."

He gave me a small wave as I walked away. Rosalie had migrated closer to some of the eighth-grade girls while I was gone and I sat on their periphery as they chatted and I toyed with my phone, finding his number right where he said it was be. I tried to come up with something witty to text him, but drew a blank and left the game with Rosalie and Emmett twenty minutes letter.

Two days later, I still had not come up with a good message to text Jacob when I felt my phone buzz on my way out of school. _"Lax 2nite. U in?" _

I hesitated. I didn't know Jacob at all. I knew if I asked Rosalie about going to the match tonight, she would instantly suspect that I wasn't going full of school spirit. She would know I had ulterior motives. If Alice went with us, it would be even worse. I was trying to figure out how to play it when I got another text. _"Let's mock the proceedings, shall we?" _Damn. The boy already knew the right thing to say to get my attention. I texted him back with _"Sure."_ and then took off down the sidewalk after Rosalie.

At the final game of the season, when my school played his for a chance to go to the state playoffs, I found myself off in a quiet corner by the parking lot, enjoying the attentions (and lips) of Jacob Black. I enjoyed his attentions for five years, until senior year.

Until **_HE_** showed up next to my locker the first day of school.

He being Edward Cullen.

Dammit.


	6. Chaos

Seniors have the upstairs hallway, tucked away in the corner farthest away from the front of the school, but with the biggest classrooms, including the science labs. We have the luxury of being sequestered away from the rest of the school, for the most part, but sometimes I wonder if it's because they don't want the drama of students on their way out the door influencing those behind us. Strange shit happens in this hall.

Case in point: Edward Cullen, next to my locker.

A) How did he find out that THIS was my locker? I barely remembered the locker number and I'm still fumbling over the combination. Him standing right there didn't help.

B) Where the fuck has he been for five years?

He had gotten taller in the intervening time between Winter Break five years ago and now. His copper hair cascaded to the side in an arc that I knew had to drive the other guys nuts; it was perfect and he didn't look like he was trying that hard. He wore dark jeans, a button-down green chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and an intense expression that annoyed me more than anything else ever had. He stared hard into my eyes as I walked toward my locker and fished out the combination on a crumbled piece of paper from orientation the week before. I stared right back at him, my brow furrowed and tried to radiate annoyance as best I could. Curiosity threatened to soften my annoyance, but the dark eyes of the strange woman at the park flickered in my mind again.

"What do you want?" I asked brusquely when he had said nothing after a good five minutes of me loading and unloading my things into the metal space. He was still looking at me, his eyes hard like emeralds. It was like he was observing me, trying to detect some unknown change in me. Like him, I'd grown taller in five years, though I barely reached his shoulders. I had traded in my jeans for Jacob's new favorite outfit of mine, a cotton shift dress with flats. I had brushed my hair out this morning so it was straighter than normal, falling around my shoulders. I still had a henna tattoo from our last weekend together before school started, an elaborate sun pattern painted on the inside of my forearm. The sun's rays looked like flames – appropriate, I thought, given my history with fire – and it caught my eyes every time I looked at it. I liked it and wished that I could have something like that permanently etched on to my skin. Edward grabbed my hand when he saw the henna and I saw his eyes widen ever so slightly at the sight of the brown-inked image.

"How are you, Bella?" he asked finally, bringing his eyes away from my arm and back to mine. I knew I had to be gaping at him, but I couldn't help it. Edward Cullen was weird.

"I'm fine?" I said, question mark implying that I didn't understand the question. _Well, I was fine until NOW_, I wanted to shout.

"Okay, we'll talk later," he said. We both turned to see Rosalie and Alice standing there. Their mouths were agape too and I could tell their stares made Edward uncomfortable. He rushed away, not looking back, and headed for one of the homerooms; thank goodness, it wasn't mine.

"OMG," Alice said. She half-laughed, mouth still agape. I didn't think her eyes could get any bigger normally, but they looked like they would practically bug out of her head now. Rosalie's blonde curls whispered by me as she hooked her arm into mine and then Alice's. Rose ignored the unanswered questions hanging in the air around us as she pulled Alice and I toward homeroom.

"Edward Cullen." Alice's fork dangled from her fingers as the three of us sat contemplating the crap called lunch that the school had decided to feed us on this momentous first day. Rosalie stabbed at her salad, mumbling something about going back to packed lunches. I was staring at Edward's back, ignoring Jacob's texts, and watching Alice trying to figure out how to extract the information she needed from me. I could see the machinations forming in her brain. She already wanted to ask about Jacob; Edward's sudden reappearance made her almost formidable in her tenacity to satisfy her curiosity.

I tried to derail her. "Where's Jasper today?" I asked, knowing full well he was sitting across from Edward. I could see his blonde curls as he and Edward sat with a half-dozen other seniors. Edward somehow had become quite the social butterfly in the first half-day of this school year and I could see Alice's lips purse at my question. She rolled her eyes at me.

"You know where he is, Bella. I know you can see him from here."

My phone buzzed again. Jacob. Another text. How is that he hasn't had his phone confiscated yet? Were they more lax about cell phones at his school? I stuck the phone in the front pocket of my backpack and smiled at Alice. "I know you're dying to ask me, Alice. Just get it over with."

"What the shit is going on here, Bella? Your phone is blowing up. I know those texts have to be from Jacob." Alice leveled a look of challenge at me when I neglected to answer straightaway.

"Alice, come on. She obviously doesn't want to talk about it."

"Rose, I can see your phone blowing up as well, but you don't ignore it. Bella is ignoring messages from the boyfriend she has had for _five years_ on the very day that that well-coiffed weirdo reappears. What's up?"

This so wasn't about Edward Cullen. In fact, this was going on longer than today, but I had carefully hidden my anxiety from Rose and Alice for one very good reason – the dark woman. Not _that _dark woman, but the dark-haired beauty that I saw Jacob embracing one night. We had both been invited to a party with his school friends, but I had had to close at work that night, meaning that I wouldn't be getting out of there until at least ten, possibly closer to eleven p.m. Sure enough, I didn't get out until 10.30 and then I had to check in with the parents before going anywhere. After a half-hour of grilling, Charlie let me go finally, but, by then, I'm sure Jacob assumed I wasn't coming. I sent him a text right as I got in my car to drive over, but the drive only took ten minutes. By the time I got there, I saw the back of him from the front door of the party.

He was standing next to one of his friends, clearly joking around, their gestures and loud guffaws that are the hallmark of teenage boy-dom, when a girl came up next to him. I saw her put her hand on his bottom and he put his arm around her shoulders. I knew it was Jake; there was no mistaking the plaid flannel shirt I had bought him for Christmas and the red Converse trainers that he had purchased on one of our rare trips to the outlets. I stalked into the party, pushing him on the shoulder; when he jerked around, the girl released his bottom, her eyes wide with shock. Jake looked shocked for a split second and then I saw his hand go to his head, running his hand through his hair, the sure sign that he knew he was in a pickle. I shouted at him and shot him a special hand gesture before stalking out of there, the truck's tires squealing in protest as I pushed it past its limits. My phone had been blowing up since Saturday last, but I had finally turned it off the next day, and then even considered changing my number. I switched my phone off, purposely doing so in front of Alice.

"Is. It. Edward. Cullen?" Alice asked, her voice burgeoning with annoyance that we rarely displayed with each other. Keep information from her, though, and she seethed until she got it.

"No. It's. Not." I seethed back, dropping my phone into my bag. I didn't want to tell them. I just wanted to ignore the whole thing because a) my boyfriend may have cheated/be cheating and b) Edward Cullen was voluntarily standing next to my locker.

Again, after lunch, as I parted from Rose and Alice to go to my elective class – culinary arts (thank goodness for my crazy high school) – I blew them both a kiss and turned toward the vocational wing, a turn which sent me straight into Edward Cullen, who was standing in the middle of the hallway.

We exchanged mutual exclamations of "Oof" and I dropped my backpack and phone, whose screen shattered instantly.

"_Shit!_" I exclaimed. The phone, while not necessarily new, was the only one I was due to have until after graduation, when my parents had planned to upgrade before I left for college. I picked it up and turned it on; it came on, but was unreadable because of the shatter pattern across the screen. I finally realized that Edward was apologizing profusely and calling my name – right as the bell rung for the new period.

"Fuck!" I sprinted toward the culinary arts classroom, skidding in just as the instructor, Mr. Beebe, was about to call roll. I found a desk on the opposite side of the room and then watched Edward Cullen sail in behind me, settling down into the desk behind me. I put my head in my hands and managed to at least affirm my presence in class before laying my head down on my desk and attempting to shut out the clusterfuck that had become my day.

The senior hall is a flight of stairs up from the entrance to the vocational wing, which is also right by the cafeteria. I took off from my first day in culinary arts, wherein Mr. Beebe outlined our semester and did not once let us touch anything vaguely resembling a utensil or food, and headed toward my locker, bounding up the stairs as fast as my feet would take me. I nearly slipped twice and had to calm myself before going up any more stairs for fear I was fall and give myself a head injury on the first day of the new semester.

As I stood at my locker, lamenting the crap condition of my phone, listening to Rose and Alice recount the mundanity of their elective (an art class, which promised to expand to graphic and interior design), I watched their eyes grow wide again as Edward came over to stand next to me, on the opposite side from the girls. He perceived that he wasn't a welcome sight and got to the point rather quickly.

"I'm sorry again about your phone. I would like to replace it."

Again, I was stupefied. Replacing my phone could be an expensive proposition as I didn't have insurance on it and the upgrade was not an option. "All right," I said slowly.

"Can we do it this afternoon, after school?"

Rosalie and Alice were behind me so I couldn't see their expression, but I heard the slight gasp that escaped Rose's mouth. I felt my own drop a bit, hopefully not so much that Edward would pick up on just how rude the three of us were being. "Sure," I managed.

"See you then." Edward glanced at the girls behind me and then walked away, his gait brisk. His expression had remained neutral the whole time, but I swear I thought he might have looked a shade pleased that I had acquiesced. The girls started giggling with their own disbelief. I just rolled my eyes and closed my locker quietly.

"What a day."


	7. Cracked

My last class was calculus; it was a mistake to schedule that class last. By the time I rolled in, I was so brain-dead that there was no way I was going to be able to add numbers let alone construct complex equations that were supposedly something I was going to need to know in my post-high-school life. _Note to self: do not major in something that involves math. _It's not that I can't do it; I just didn't like it and therefore lost all motivation before I even walked in the door.

The higher math teacher was a lovely, but clearly nerdy young woman named Ms. Glass. She smiled when I walked in; the classroom was set up with a number of tables, each with two chairs, so that we could spread out and have plenty of room to work as well as move around whenever she would use one of the boards on the sides of the classroom. Since Calculus was a higher math reserved only for seniors and for qualifying sophomores and juniors, the number of students was smaller – fewer than twenty – and all of the tables were occupied save for one.

I had to stifle the loud groan that threatened when I saw Edward switch chairs so I could sit down at the same table. He tried to smile when I sat down, but his lips betrayed a tenseness I hadn't expected. He was nervous. It was weird. Was I radiating displeasure?

Okay, I was. Who wouldn't? To top it off, as I looked out the window with fifteen minutes left in the period and the school day, I heard the telltale sounds of a motorcycle engine breeze past the classroom on the way to the front of the school. I recognized the ridiculous helmet with the painted wolf's head and facepalmed. _Jacob._ Dear Baby Jesus, what was next?

Edward saw me look out the window and followed my gaze. He looked back at me, puzzled, and I just nodded. I didn't want to explain it to my friends, let alone to him. When the bell rang, I nudged Edward's arm while he was gathering his things.

"Where are you parked?" I asked.

"Um, why?"

"So I know where to meet you. I don't have a car. Can I catch a ride with you?" I lied. I did have my truck, but Jacob would know where my truck was and I suspected he was standing next to it right now. Edward shrugged.

"It's the silver Volvo C30. I'm parked toward the back of the lot." He looked embarrassed, but I wasn't sure why. I didn't know anything about cars so I was happy that I could distinguish the various logos. I tried to search for a picture of the Volvo logo on my phone, but, of course, I couldn't see it very well so I had to wait for the girls to meet me at our proximal lockers. I grabbed Alice's while she loaded her backpack and searched for the logo there.

"Okay, I'm riding with Edward. I may call one of you guys to come and get me and pick up my truck later. Or at least somebody volunteer to give me a ride in the morning."

Rosalie frowned. "What's up, Bella?"

Alice slammed her locker shut and stood with Rosalie, both looking expectantly at me.

"All right, Jacob may have cheated on me, Edward and I ran into each other outside of class and I dropped my phone, and now he's offered to replace it because, look at the shattered screen. Happy?" I said it all in a rush. The girls just gawked. I kissed them both on the cheek and ran for the exit to the parking lot.

"Love you guys. Bye!"

The door I chose to exit was the wrong one; I saw the top of Jacob's dark head by my truck as I ran out. If he turned toward the door, he would have seen me right then, but I saw that he was looking off toward the crowd of students coming out of a different door. I ducked down behind a row of cars and half-crab-walked my way down the row, coming out behind the truck – and Jacob – and right next to…a silver Volvo C30 with Edward Cullen sitting in it, looking at me with furrowed brows.

Yeah. Just get in the car, Swan.

"Hi. Thanks for the ride."

Edward tried to smile. "Err, sure. What store do you want to go to?"

I named my provider and the store my parents and I usually went to whenever we needed new phones or had issues with our service. Edward pulled out of the parking lot, driving past my truck on our way out. I ducked down in the passenger seat as we passed and then looked back. Jacob still seemed to be looking for me. I wondered with a wee bit of guilt how long he would stand there before I remember the dark-haired woman with her hand on his butt and then I stopped. Whatever. _You suck, Jacob Black_.

We pulled into the cell phone store and went in only to stand in line for a good half-hour before we actually were able to address my situation. While we waited, we both sat on a red bench, watching other customers milling around, doing business and looking at overpriced accessories.

"So do you want to get the same phone that you have now?" Edward asked quietly.

I had been contemplating how to start a conversation with him, but found that everything I could think of sounded incredibly intrusive or rude. _So, where have you been for the last five years? Why did you basically disappear in the night in seventh grade? What's your deal? _It surprised me to hear his voice first. "I had planned on getting the same phone," I stammered.

"Really?" Edward's eyebrows lifted and he actually smiled. "I'm paying for a brand new phone. It was my fault you broke this one and you're just going to get the same phone. Why not get something better?"

I shrugged, looking down at the cracked screen on my phone. "That's not exactly fair. I would be taking advantage of you. It was an accident. You don't even have to replace this one. I could just replace the screen and be done with it."

"It's all right. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Besides, replacing the screen would probably cost as much at this point as getting a new phone, unless you got the protection plan."

I laughed with a slight bitter edge. "Dad never gets the protection plan. He calls it a waste of money. I protested knowing my proclivity for clumsiness, but I have a job. He told me I could work it off if something happened."

"I am thwarting his plans," Edward observed.

I smiled, thinking of my father. "Probably not. You are demonstrating how one takes responsibilities for his or her actions. I've seen the opposite here recently."

Edward looked at me with a question in his eyes. "Sorry," I said. "I've recently been on the receiving end of some dishonesty."

My remark was met with a look of understanding followed by the interruption of the salesperson in charge of our issue. I chose a new phone – yes, it was the same phone, but in a different color – and Edward even threw in a new phone case to protect it.

"Call it an early birthday present," he said.

"You don't even know when my birthday is," I said, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. _Did he?_

I saw the corner of his mother turn up, as if he were suppressing a smile. "Do you know my birthday?" I ask, incredulity leaking out of every word.

"No." Edward's face smoothed over and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Thank you for the new phone, Edward." I said, taking the bag from the young woman who rang us up, watching our conversation while she worked. She looked back and forth between us, a slight smile on her face. _No, lady, this is not that. He is not my boyfriend and I am not his girl. He is weird, stalkery boy and I am…_

I am what here. His destiny? Or perhaps I am just a girl who takes one strange moment in my life too seriously.

As I watched Edward open his wallet to take out his method of payment, first my eyes boggled at the number of bills that he had in there. Second, I saw something truly unexpected. A photograph of a woman, her hair over her shoulder. She was lovely. I saw a flash of dark hair. I grabbed his hand as he held the wallet and brought the photo closer to me.

It was her. The photo Edward had in his wallet was the dark woman. It was her. The woman of my nightmares. I knew I would dream of flames tonight.

I released his hand. I expected him to look puzzled or angry or something that would question the reason I grabbed his hand. What I saw was not that. Recognition. Expectation. Resignation.

"Oh, shit."


	8. Changed

_The last of the summer breezes calls for sleeping with an open window. The curtains sweep back and forth as the cool air brushes in, bringing in the scents of cut grass and impending rain. His smell comes in before he does; he creeps in with barely a sound, climbing the tree outside in bare feet and treading into the room so quietly that no one else would know he was here._

_Except me._

_I feel his hands first and then something else, a familiar form that sends tingles through me. My hand reaches back and brushes his warm skin, the soft hardness. He pushes my underwear aside and I feel the sensation of his warmth push into me. _

_"So wet," he murmurs. My responding moan is quiet. We move into synchronicity, giving and receiving. I feel his hand brush my –_

"Argh!" I was fully awake now, the dream fading except for between my legs. I sat up in bed and saw that the window was indeed open, the pinkish tint of dawn threatening behind my sheers. I got up and closed the window, falling face first back into bed. I looked over at the clock and realized that my alarm would be going off in a bare half-hour.

I hear my phone vibrate on the nightstand: another text message. This time, it's from Jacob. _Hey, are you up? _

Exasperated, I contemplate what to do. In the week or so since the party, we haven't spoken on the phone. He's sent me a hundred texts at least and I've responded once or twice. Alice and Rose both agree that the two of us need to talk, especially after I finally told them the whole story. But I can't do it. I don't know why. I just can't do it. Perhaps it's my allergy to drama; he might have a really good explanation, but I can't take the stress of the whole situation.

Instead, I'm thinking about Edward Cullen. And dreaming about him apparently. _Cringe_. That dream was vivid. It's not like I haven't dreamed like that before; Jacob and I have spent our share of time in bed and I daydream like any normal person. But this was so real that I could still feel the reverberations of it in my groin.

_"So wet…"_

Oh, God, I have to face him at school. Sit next to him in Calculus. That is going to be weird. Ever since we bought my phone, ever since he told me who the dark woman was, I haven't been able to stop thinking about him. But I haven't thought of him in this way.

_My hand reaches back and brushes his warm skin…_

I fling myself down on the bed and cover my head with pillows. _Stop, brain, stop._ Then my alarm goes off and I groan. I hit snooze and then hear my mom call my name.

My phone vibrates again.

* * *

Before Calculus, there's our culinary arts class. Today, we are supposed to learn how to dice onions properly, or, as Mr. Beebe puts it, "there is no crying in class today." So students who don't follow his instructions and shed] tears because they're cutting it wrong lose points. All righty.

I am nervous before I even approach the onion on the bamboo cutting board. Each station has a knife and a white onion. We wrap aprons around our torsos and watch Mr. Beebe begin to demonstrate how to cut the onion before he signals for us to follow along. His cutting board is projected onto a screen over his head so we can see in full color what he's doing. I pick up my knife and it's clear that I am apprehensive before I grip the onion in my other hand.

"Man, I could cut your tension with this knife," Edward whispers. I laugh in spite of myself and look at him. He's full on grinning, a definite change from our earlier conversations.

"Ha ha," I mumble and do my best to follow along. I feel my eyes water as we work, but the tears stay put. I watch one drop off Edward's nose while he's cutting. He's smart enough not to wipe at it and draw attention to himself.

When we're done, I smile proudly at my unevenly diced pile of onion. Edward hands me a plastic bag for my work and Mr. Beebe walks around, inspecting each student's work. Edward's pile is, of course, done immaculately. "Well done, Mr. Cullen," Mr. Beebe says before picking up my baggie of diced onion.

"Ms. Swan, your knife skills need work."

"Mr. Beebe, I'm just glad I have all of my fingers." Clearly the man doesn't know my propensity for personal disaster.

"Hmph," he responds, clapping Edward on the back. I roll my eyes at my partner and he grins.

"My onion is like my wallet: every time I open it, I want to cry." Edward giggles, especially after I start to shake my head at his lame joke.

"That was terrible. Especially since I've seen your wallet."

He stops and places his hand on mine. I look up at him. Then I remember my dream and, involuntarily, the blood rushes to my face – and my groin. _Stop it,_ I command my body silently.

"What is it?" Edward asks when he sees my grimace.

"Nothing." I say, gathering my things. I shake my baggie of diced onion and contemplate where to put it until I get home.

"You could just throw it away, you know." Edward says.

"Never! I want to show my parents that there's hope for me yet." I make sure it's tightly closed and tuck it in the front pocket of my backpack. The bell rings at that moment.

"Let's to Calculus then. Care to join me, Miss Swan?" Edward gathers his messenger bag and swings the strap gracefully over his head.

"Certainly, Mr. Cullen." I say. "Lead the way."

I see him start to reach for my hand, but then he reconsiders. All I see is the back of him as we leave the classroom, heading for Ms. Glass's room down the hall. He doesn't reach for me again.

I don't know how I feel about that.

* * *

Sitting on my bed, I finally decide to call Jacob. We need to sort this out. The dream and the change in my relationship with Edward Cullen make it clear that sorting is in order. I lay back on the bed, rehearsing what I want to say. I find Jacob's number in my frequently dialed list and hit the button.

The phone rings twice before he picks up. He says "Hello?" twice before I can answer.

"Jacob," is all I can manage.

"Bella! Finally! Bella, I'm so sorry! I can totally explain!" For the next ten minutes solid, he talks. The girl was Leah, his friend Seth's sister. He knew he way back when he and Seth were kids together, but the Clearwaters had moved away because their father had gotten a new job in another part of the state. The family moved back to be near family after their father died. Leah was in college already and had been visiting for the weekend.

"Nothing happened, Bella. I swear. Honest."

"Yeah, well, that's not what I saw. She put her hand on your butt, Jake."

"Bells, she was flirting with me. We were all drinking. You know how it is at one of Quil's parties." Oh, I was familiar. I was lucky that the one time I did overindulge at a party Alice was with me and drive me over to her house for an 'impromptu' sleepover, which I spent most of hurling my guts out. Jacob was so drunk that it was all he could do to plant a sloppy-ass kiss on me as I was exiting. I hadn't had a drink since. Jacob was known for knocking back beers and then leaning on me to drive him home. Thankfully, he never pawed at me in his knackered state. I would have had to kick him in the nuts if he thought I would have sex with him like that.

"Let's talk later, Jake. I need to think." I said. Shockingly, after five years, you would think I would be more upset. But I wasn't. Jacob protested on the other end, but I promised him we would talk again in a couple of days. It was Thursday and I had to be at work in an hour. I touched the 'end' button on my phone and walked toward my window, looking out into the trees that lined the divide between our yard and our neighbor's. I opened the window, the sheers dancing in the resultant influx of air as I did. I took in the smells of the day as the change to night was starting to come on. I smiled.

Change felt like it was in the air. I dreamed of flames again, as I had each night since I saw the photo in Edward's wallet. This time, though, the flames were a soundless background as I opened my eyes and my legs to Edward. _So wet, so hot, we burned together._


	9. Knowledge

Not even the smoke alarm could penetrate the catatonic state that the sight of flames induced. Edward and I were learning to sauté – Mr. Beebe knew that we would get restless if we didn't try some actual cooking – and I magically managed to start a grease fire. When the flames started, I jumped back and couldn't be moved from the spot; everyone had to work around me, placing a lid over the pan, which snuffed out the fire, and then disposing of the ruined pot and burned food. Edward put his hands on my shoulders and gave me a gentle shake, to which I responded by bursting into tears. The fear of the fire left me in the throes of what felt like a panic attack. Mr. Beebe shooed us both out of the room, Edward guiding me through the halls toward the nurse's office.

By the time I was done with the freakout, I was a tear-streaked mess who was still shaking. And we were both late for Calculus. As we scurried down the hall toward Ms. Glass's classroom, I apologized profusely, to which Edward just nodded. He reached out and squeezed my hand for a second before opening the door to the classroom. We slunk in, Ms. Glass giving us as evil an eye as she could manage, which looked more like a botched wink than anything else. I tried to concentrate as she reviewed for our first test the following week, but I was still shaking. I laid my head down on my crossed arms and banged my head on my forearms. Edward patted me on the back and whispered, "It's okay, Bella. It's over. You're safe."

I sat up and he smiled at me. It was a genuine smile, one that curled up the corners of his eyes and moved his ears back a bit, just enough to reveal how adorable he was. The breathy tone of his voice from my dream came back to me and I blushed, averting my eyes from his face. "Thank you," I whispered and turned to listen to Ms. Glass, who was writing on the board on the other side of the room.

After class was over, I walked back toward my locker while Edward stayed behind to ask the teacher a question. Alice and Rosalie were both there with hugs after I told them what had happened; they knew that I was afraid of fire, but they were not privy to the reason behind it. I had never told Jacob about it either and my parents still thought it was a result of a childhood nightmare. I had told only one other person about the real reason behind my fear.

"Bella," Edward approached me while I talked to Rose and Alice. The girls looked at him with the same sort of question mark in the eyes that they had always had. I knew they still remembered the shy and awkward Edward from years past. They were mystified at how much he had changed. The girls stepped away, Alice jerking her head in the direction of the exit we always took.

I looked up at him and he was gazing intently at me, his green eyes colored with concern. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Sure," I said quietly. "I'm mostly just really tired now and would like to go home and take a nap." These anxiety attacks always left me drained.

"I wanted to ask you this today, but with the fire and all, I haven't had a chance. Would you like to grab coffee with me one day?" He leaned casually on the lockers, his messenger bag flush against his torso. My eyes started drifting downward, dreams came to the fore of my mind, and suddenly I realized I hadn't answered him.

"Sure, how about tomorrow?" It was just coffee, right? This isn't a date? I thought of Jacob and how we had spoken on the phone a couple of times, but hadn't gotten anywhere. Perhaps a coffee with Edward would help me figure things out.

"What time works best for you?"

"I usually work the late afternoon shift on weekends. How about nine? Is that too early?" I usually rose at a decent hour on the weekend to finish my homework before going to work. I didn't like the idea of having to use my brain after being there for several hours. Retail was a brain drain, to say the least.

"Cool," Edward smiled again. _Stop that, Cullen._ I tried to smile back, but I was too busy wondering if this was a date to put some effort into it. Edward gave me a small wave and walked away; my friends stood off to the side, agog.

"Did he just ask you out?" Rosalie asked.

"No, he asked me to grab coffee with him."

"Bells, that's a date." Alice said.

"Whatever. It's not a date. It's just coffee."

"What about Jacob?" Rose tilted her head, concerned. I knew she wasn't Jacob's biggest fan, but she was mine and she knew that we hadn't resolved anything.

"What about him, Rose? I don't know what to do there. I need a break from thinking about it. This is a break."

Alice put her arm around my shoulders and smiled at me. "It's a date."

I laughed and shoved her. "Let's go, you maniacs. It's Friday. Time to relax."

* * *

"What would you like?" Edward stood next to me in line, looking at the menu. I can't tell if he is as much of a coffee connoisseur as I am so I wait until we get up to the register to order my usual.

"Venti Sugar-free vanilla latte with an extra shot and a splash of mocha." I saw Edward turn toward me in the corner of my eye. "And whatever he wants." I motioned toward him. Rather than ruminate over the status of this coffee, I decided that paying for both took some of the pressure off of the moment.

"You don't have to do that."

I smile at him. "It's a thank-you for rescuing my ass yesterday in culinary arts. I panicked."

"And for good reason."

I shrugged. We stood together by the other end of the counter, waiting for our respective lattes. Edward carried both as we walked over to a small table by the window. I figured if we were visible, then it would lessen the chance that this was anything more than casual.

We chatted about school stuff, my new phone, and more. Just two people getting to know each other. Then he asked a question I didn't expect.

"Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"It's complicated," I said, slumping down in my chair. I tapped my fingers on the tabletop, putting my hand on my phone. It vibrated at that moment, the text from Jacob lighting up the screen.

_Just checking in. Let me know when you want to talk again._ I sighed.

"How complicated?" Edward took a sip of his latte, watching me as I contemplated how to answer.

I looked out the window at that moment to see a group of dark-haired guys standing around a truck. The truck looked familiar to me, its once-gold paint job dulled to a beige with some visible wear-and-tear. I saw a girl get out of the driver's side of the truck; it was Jacob's sister, Rachel, who must have been home from school for the weekend. At the same time I saw Rachel, I saw another dark-haired young woman. I didn't recognize her until I saw another dark head exit the car after her. Jacob. He put his arm around the young woman and she put her hand on his behind. Then she turned toward him and I caught her side profile. It was the same woman from the party. She wore the same ring as before. The same smile.

I pursed my lips and looked at Edward. "What?" he said, innocent of the turmoil going on in my head. He didn't know who I was dating, only that I was dating someone apparently. I stood up, my chair scraping loudly from the abrupt movement.

"Excuse me," I said as calmly as I could manage.

I can only imagine what Edward saw as I exited the coffee shop, my arms flailing as I confronted Jacob. I heard the ding of the door's bell behind me, but I was too busy loudly confronting my 'boyfriend' to see who had joined me outside.

"What the hell, Jacob?" I said, hands on my hips.

Jacob's arm disappeared from the woman's shoulders. "Bella – "

"Bella!" Rachel said brightly, obviously ignoring my anger and trying to change the subject. "This is my friend Leah. She's here with me for the weekend. Her family knows mine from way back – "

I put my hand up. "Hi, Rachel. I had a pretty good guess who this is, but I wanted to know why she has her hand on your brother's butt. Who is she to you, Jake?"

"Wait," Jacob said, pointing toward Edward. I turned around to see him standing there, holding my purse in one hand, his messenger bag slung over his hip. "Who is this?"

"That's just Edward. He's a friend." I motioned toward the girl again. "Anyway, who is this girl to you, Jacob?"

"Who is this guy to you?"

"He's a friend, I said."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Bella. Leah is just a friend too."

"Ha! I don't put my hand on my friend's butts. She –"

"I have a name, you know." Leah said loudly, her eyes hard and angry.

"Whatever. This is between me and Jacob, please."

"Jacob!" Leah said, looking over at him.

"Bella, it's over, okay? Let's just call a spade a spade and stop dicking around here."

"Fine by me!" I shouted. I grabbed my purse from Edward's hand and marched away, toward my truck. Edward followed, exchanging no words with any of the people behind me. I got into my truck, slamming the door as hard as I could. Of course, the latch didn't catch and, instead, the door just bounced back so I kept slamming it until the latch finally caught. I sat in my truck, trying to breathe deeply in an effort to calm myself down. I heard a quiet knock on the passenger side window.

Edward was standing there, looking concerned. I scooted over, rolling the window down. He didn't try to get in and I didn't move to open the door for him. I appreciated that he wasn't trying to horn in on my space like one of the girls would have done. "So, that was your boyfriend?"

I giggled in spite of myself. It came out breathier than I had intended, but I was still working on brining my heart rate down. "Yes, that _was _my boyfriend, Jacob."

"Well, it was a fun visit while it lasted. I'll see you Monday?" Edward wasn't prying, but moving away from the window to go and leave me in peace.

"Edward!" I yelled. He turned back to me on the passenger side of the my truck. "How about we plan for another coffee? I owe you for today."

"That's not necessary." Edward shrugged, noncommittal.

"Please, I insist. Today is not I would usually call a successful get-together. Let's try it again."

He smiled, that ear-wrinkling smile I had only seen a couple of times. "All right. Let's do it next weekend. How does that sound?"

"Good," I smiled. Edward's hand went up in a small wave and he walked away. I watched him out of my rear view mirror and I wondered when that weird boy had gone away and become the guy that made my heart flutter just a bit.

* * *

I was thinking about Jacob at work while I dealt with customers and restocked shelves. _I should feel more upset, right? I should feel betrayed or something like that? _I didn't though. If I had to be truly honest, I wasn't even that angry. I was more angry that he hadn't been honest with me than that he had actually had another person he might be interested in. We were young still, in high school, for God's sake. I wasn't expecting us to be forever, but I did expect honesty. I would have to call him in a couple of weeks to talk. It seemed like a quick end to a long relationship, something that was almost too convenient. Then I thought about Edward and his reappearance. Had I subconsciously sunk my own relationship because of that? The dream and its sequel, sex on a bed surrounded by flames, made me wonder. Edward was a hell of a lot sexier now. Less awkward. More confident. And always there when something crazy was going on. It was weird.

At the end of my shift, I counted down the registers, preparing them for the next day. My co-worker was cleaning up, sweeping the aisles, collecting trash, and helping me straighten the shelves. We replaced stray items and danced to the loud music blaring from his phone. He left me with two trash bags to take out and I headed back toward the dumpster, opening the back door and promptly forgetting that it would latch behind me. _Well, shit_. I would have to walk around to the front to knock on the front door and get him to let me in. I walked around the dumpsters of the other stores in the complex to ours, which was last on the end to find it on fire. I froze.

I felt the telltale effects of the anxiety attack start to come on. I tried to keep my mind clear. The fire was several feet away from me and, to my knowledge, confined to the dumpster. I brushed my pocket and found my phone there. I needed to call 911 for the fire department. I dropped the trash bags and reached into my pocket, trying to breathe in a rhythm as my therapist had showed me. _In for three, out for three, in, out, in, out._ I then heard the rev of a car engine as it turned the corner into this back portion of the shopping center. I turned, knowing I needed to flag the car down to stop before approaching the dumpster. My movements felt slow and I felt stupid, like my mind would never catch up to what was happening around me. Instead, I saw the flash of silver and the familiar sight of a Volvo C30. Edward got out.

"Edward?" I said, dumbfounded. He brought a fire extinguisher with him and aimed for the dumpster, spraying white foam all over and slowly putting the flames out.

I looked at him in incredulity. "How?" was all I could manage. How did he know I was here? How did he know what was happening?

Another person got out of the car behind him. Not as tall as Edward, I couldn't tell who it was until she appeared under the street light with him. I recognized her from his picture. _My dark woman_.

Edward's mother.


	10. Forward

"Oh, shit," I gaped at Edward's wallet. The picture was so familiar, straight out of so many dreams from my childhood. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I coughed, choking on my need for oxygen.

"Are you all right?" Edward said, concerned. I shook my head.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to gawk at the, I mean, your money. That was impolite of me."

He looked uncomfortable for a moment. "My father is a doctor. We—"

"Edward, you don't have to explain." I said, looking him straight in those distinctive green eyes. "I'm not judging you. I was just caught off guard, that's all. I'm sorry."

"No worries," Edward strained out a laugh. "I don't like to flash money like this, but we pay cash for everything. My father doesn't like me spending money until I have it in my hand. Credit and debit cards make it too easy to overspend."

I nodded, still looking at the picture. "Who is that? She's very pretty."

Edward twisted his wrist to see what I was looking at. "Oh, that's my mother. Why?"

"No reason." _No reason, my ass. Stay calm, Swan._ "She looked familiar."

That's when Edward looked at me. Really looked at me. For the first time since he had returned to school, he looked me over from head to toe. His gaze was so intent for so long that I actually began to squirm. It's like he was looking for something in me. But he didn't follow it up with a comment. He smiled politely at the cashier, taking the bag with my phone and its accessories and handing it to me.

"Here you go, Ms. Swan." Edward smiled wanly, his face strained. He nodded at the guy who helped us on the way out and opened the door for me as we exited. Suddenly, I felt at a loss for what to say.

We made small talk and I thanked him again, making a mental note to be super nice to him for the rest of my life. He demurred at my thank-yous, reminding me that he was the reason I had dropped my phone in the first place. We parted pleasantly and that was it.

But the photo stuck with me. I hadn't seen her face in years and, at some intervals, I would wonder if it was all a dream. Did I cook it all up in my childhood imagination? Then I would see her when I was out and about. Dark-haired women would catch my eye and I would check to see if they were her. It surely never was, but there were times when I doubted.

She came back into my dreams that night, but only to say again, "You will marry Edward and you will die in flames." Now that I knew that Edward Cullen's mother was the dark woman, it would follow that Edward Cullen was the Edward in question. In the dream, she gave me her prediction and then I found myself lying down, Edward lying next to me. I felt the heat of the fire, though I couldn't see it, and I reached out for him. His hand touched mine and I felt comforted. It was the first time I had dreamed about the dark woman and not woken screaming.

Then the sexy Edward dreams started and I felt myself going up in a different kind of flames. Thankfully, she never appeared in those – how weird would that be? – but it made me wonder if that was it. Weren't orgasms called 'little deaths'? Could that be it? And, if it were, ew? How weird would it be to have your partner's mother appearing in your dreams?

Okay, so that's probably **_not_** what she's saying, but I couldn't deny the naked dreams weren't yummy.

_Stop it, Swan; focus._

Anyway, the dreams were back, but I seemed to have a better handle on them because there were some knowns finally. The only unknown now was, what, if anything, did/could/should Edward know? Would he think I was mad?

Only time would tell.

* * *

The dumpster smoldered and Edward stood on a stray milk crate to peer in to see if the fire was truly out. He sprayed the area with the fire extinguisher one more time and then placed it on the ground next to the dumpster so that it would be accessible in case something else happened. His mother was standing next to me, smiling but silent. I was still visibly shaking, adrenaline rushing through my body, but I didn't move. She reached out for my hand and I took hers, small and smooth but cool. She observed me as I observed her.

Edward walked over to us. "Bella Swan, this is my mother, Esme Cullen. Mom, this is Bella."

"Nice to meet you, Bella." Esme's smile reminded me of my mother's, the same warmth that came from caring about the person's well-being, the wholeness of love. She squeezed my hand and it was all I could do to look from her to Edward and back.

"How?" I asked.

"Well –" Edward rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"Let me explain," Esme said. But the back door of the store burst open at that moment, my co-worker's voice accompanying it.

"Bella, what are you doing?" Mike said, gaping from Edward to Esme to me. Edward's car was still on, the headlights shining on the dumpster. I pointed at the dumpster.

"There was a fire. These nice people stopped to help me put it out."

Mike looked dubious at my explanation, but I knew that impatience would better any curiosity. He had a girlfriend to get home to. "Well, if you're quite finished, it's time to lock up for the night."

"Right," I said, looking from Edward to Esme to Mike. Esme and Edward moved to get in the car, leaving me standing there watching them.

I saw Edward mouth "later" at me, waving as he got back in the car. I headed back toward the store, Mike unlocking the back door to let us both in. I got a text right as he checked the night locks on the back door and entered the alarm code.

_Meet me for coffee._

Now? It was ten o'clock. I sent him a text with as much and my phone vibrated again as Mike walked me to my truck.

_Would tomorrow be better? _

Mike hovered next to my passenger side door, waiting to make sure my truck started and that I was able to leave before he would get in his car. I pulled out of the parking space and tried to text as I pulled up to the parking lot's exit. _Meet me at the picnic table by my house. _My parents had a picnic table sitting between our house and our neighbor's. We once used it weekly, but my neighbor's kids were older now, like I was, and we didn't get together nearly as much. I knew my parents would go to bed as soon as I came home and I could sit outside on the picnic table for as long as I wanted. Jacob used to do it all of the time. Often, my parents wouldn't set a curfew because they could see the table from their bedroom window. They knew I wouldn't go far because it would be easy for them to know I was gone.

At home, I ran a brush through my hair quickly, dabbling lip gloss, and telling my mother about my evening. (I left out the dumpster fire.) Then I told her I was meeting Edward on the picnic table and she raised her eyebrows. She didn't say anything, but nodded. Renee and Charlie were well aware that Jacob and I had broken up; I wasn't sure what my father would think about me having a guy over so soon afterward so I hoped he was asleep already so that my mother wouldn't have a chance to mention it. I had to remind myself that I was almost eighteen years old. Hopefully that fact garnered me some trust in handling my own affairs.

Edward still hadn't texted me a reply when Mom headed up the stairs to bed. I went outside to the table, trusting that he would show. It didn't occur to me until just then that he might have a curfew himself. My gut clenched at the idea that I wouldn't get my explanation about the fire and Esme tonight. I played with my phone, stroking the purple case that reminded me of Edward. I saved his phone number in my contacts list, typing his name in very slowly. I scrolled through my list of songs looking for a ringtone to give him. I had done that for the girls and my parents, but I stopped myself this time. Why was I assigning this so much importance when I wasn't even sure of what it was?

My name was a whisper from the darkness. I saw Edward appear; where was his car? There was no way he had walked over here.

"Where is your car?" I asked when he sat down next to me.

"I parked down the street. I wasn't sure how your parents would feel about me pulling up and parking in front of your house."

"My mom knows you're here. It wouldn't have been a big deal. Jacob used to do it all of the time. This was my way around my curfew. We could sit out here for hours provided we stayed within sight of my parents' bedroom window." I pointed up at the large window on the second floor. Sure enough, I saw the flash of my mother's face as she peered out to see what we were doing. I waved and she retreated.

"Do they know who I am?" Edward asked.

I shrugged. "I'm sure I've mentioned you here and there over the years. I told Mom you were coming over when I got home."

"What did she say? You know, you did just break up with your boyfriend." Edward tried to suppress a grin, but I knew he was thinking of the sight of Jacob and I screaming at each other.

I rolled my eyes. "She didn't say anything." _Not yet, anyway_. I knew they would start asking questions now. I needed to formulate answers. There was no way I was going to tell them about Esme and her prediction. Edward didn't respond and I wasn't sure how to move forward with the conversation. I considered different angles. I could ask him point blank and share the prediction she had given me all of those years ago. That sounded rude. I could start with some simple questions about his family: his father, his mother, any siblings, etc. I didn't want to put Edward off, but he knew I knew something was up with his mother. Subtlety might be the best route since it could be a sensitive subject.

"What's up with you and your mother showing up tonight?" I heard myself blurt out. _So much for subtlety, Swan. Good job._

Edward sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand again. I could see the gears turning in his mind. "I'm sorry about that; I know it had to have been a shock to have us both show up at such a chaotic moment."

"Well, you keep showing up at chaotic moments in my life. I'm trying to figure out how you're doing that."

"There's a very simple but highly improbably explanation." He looked at me, full on, green eyes meeting my brown. Was he testing me to see how I would react?

"All right. I want to hear it."

"You're going to think I'm mad." Edward laughed nervously.

I shook my head. "I doubt that," I said.

He blew out a breath and flapped his hands a bit. "My mother is psychic. She made a prediction about you tonight and I've learned to listen to her."

_Okay, that explains a lot, _I thought. I sat up straighter next to Edward at my next thought. Because no matter how improbable it would sound to the average person, I had no reason to doubt that Esme Cullen was psychic. I laughed at my casual response to his statement. "Okay," I said.

Edward put his face in his hands and moaned. "I can't believe I'm about to say this. I've never said this out loud to another person other than my parents in my whole life."

"Edward –" I started to say. I wanted to allay his fears because I'm pretty sure his first instinct was that anyone he told about his mother would be suspicious. But I wasn't sure. I believed him with a certainty that had to be reassuring. But he didn't let me know finish.

"She told me when I was nine that you and I would marry and die in flames."

_Yup, wasn't expecting __**that**__._ I felt the _whoosh _of my faint just as Edward's arms caught my falling body.


End file.
